


Everyone Says I Hate You

by Riddlebird-puff (hobbitpuff)



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Amnesiac Edward, Edward is an Unofficial Siren because reasons, Future Fic, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Oswald is an Unreliable Narrator, Oswald is too much fun to write, the Sirens mentioned only
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-24
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-03-08 19:29:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13465011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hobbitpuff/pseuds/Riddlebird-puff
Summary: Edward has amnesia after an attack and goes to the Lounge to get answers from Oswald.





	Everyone Says I Hate You

**Author's Note:**

> Remember: Oswald is an unreliable narrator in this fic. His paranoia and jealousy definitely taints how he remembers the past. 
> 
> Also- Selina and Pamela (Ivy) are aged up so their ages are closer to Oswald and Edward. And Harleen is a mix of Barbara/Lee (but neither) and is Edward’s best buddy.

“Everyone says I hate you.”

  
Oswald looked up at the sound of the familiar voice, one he had not heard in quite some time. But it was different than the last time he heard it. Less confident. Less cocky.

  
“Did you come all this way to tell me that, Ed Nygma.”

  
The man formally known as the Riddler looked good compared to the last time he saw him. That last time he had been in one of his manic episodes and looked as though he had not slept in a month, and smelled as though he had not bathed in two. But standing before him now, the former rogue looked healthy. And clean.

  
He placed a box on Oswald’s desk.

  
“Actually it’s Edward Nashton these days.”

  
And that more than anything else told Oswald that as much as he may look like the man that he had once considered a friend, this man standing before him was not his Eddie.

  
Not that Ed had ever been rightfully his.

  
“You are Ed Nygma. Edward Nashton was your father.”

  
A man he knew Ed hated whatever he was calling himself.

  
“The name Nygma has no meaning to me.” Edward shrugged. “My therapist says denying my past is what initially led to the dislocation personality disorder that caused the Riddler persona to emerge.”

  
Oswald began to laugh almost cruelly. “We define who we are, Eddie. Nashton is nothing but a label you wear to pretend to be normal. Only when you tore it off did you become who you were meant to be.”

  
“Normal is for normal people.” Ed smiled. “Dr. Quinzel said much the same thing.”

  
“Harley is a smart girl.” Oswald liked Harley Quinn, even if she had terrible taste in men, Eddie not excluded. It did not surprise him that the former Riddler had sought comfort in the harlequin’s arms, he only wondered if it was literally as well as figuratively.

  
Not that it meant anything to him either way. But it would be unfortunate if the Joker finally killed Edward in this weakened state.

  
“My first memory of Harleen is that of a force slamming into my chest holding on with a breath stealing hug in the hospital bed. I didn’t remember her, of course. But I knew in that moment that I would do anything for her.” Edward smiled.

  
“Selina on the other hand punched me in the arm and told me to be more careful with my remaining six lives, crossed her arms and smirked. She tried to act tough but I could tell she had been worried, she reminded me of a stray kitten that I wanted to hold in my hands and protect.” Edward chuckled. “And probably get my eyes scratched out for the trouble.”

  
“Cat would not appreciate the sentiment, that’s a fact.” Selina would sooner bite the hand that tried to feed her than accept any sort of handout. “I suppose Ivy was there too.” Lately the three Sirens were rarely found apart.

  
It had been Ivy that had kept Oswald updated on Edward’s progress. Actually she had told him to pull his beak out of his umbrella and go see the oversized leprechaun himself instead of bothering her with his inquiries.

  
“Pamela assured me that they were watching my place. She promised to feed my plants.” Edward shrugged. “The thing is, I don’t remember having any plants. But I have them now. One specimen is huge and angry and I swear hates me. She calls it Harleen.”

  
Pamela had given Eddie one of her special pets then, Oswald thought. The beautiful rogue may be prickly but he knew she had a soft center for those she considered her friends. Harley. Selina. Himself. And now apparently Edward.

  
“Ivy gave you an Harley 2, she either really likes you or she has trained her to kill you in your sleep.” Oswald chuckled. “Not a bad idea, maybe I should gift you one of my special forces penguins. Comes with its own grenade launcher.”

  
“Might as well. With all of Selina’s feline friends, Pamela’s sentient plants, and Harleen’s babies the place is beginning to feel like a zoo. A dangerous petting zoo where a visitor might lose a hand.”

  
Oswald knew of Harley’s “babies”. Two huge crossbred dogs that the harlequin swore were part hyena. And who knew, maybe they were. He had witnessed them tear apart an informant that had betrayed the Sirens. But they were fiercely loyal to their “mother” and anyone under her protection.

  
“The Sirens are living at your headquarters?” Oswald whistled. “You must feel like you have your own personal harem. You must be enjoying the stroke to your ego.” He attempted to keep the bitterness from his voice, but he knew he failed.

  
Edward blanched. “It… isn’t like that. Pamela and Harleen share one of the spare rooms. Selina has taken over the master bedroom. And I have the couch.”

  
Oswald took a drink from the glass on his desk before he said something he would regret.

  
As if Edward had not had sexual relations with more than half of the rogues at one time or another. Sometimes it felt like he was the only one who he had not.

  
By the Bat. The Riddler had even had a volatile affair with the Joker that had almost ended in a war between all the rogues of Gotham.

  
“The Sirens have you sleeping alone on your own couch?” Oswald held his glass up. “I toast those lovely ladies for showing you your proper place.”

  
“Who said I was sleeping alone?” Edward crossed his arms and smirked.

  
He looked so much like the Riddler at that moment that Oswald could almost believe the amnesia act was just that.

  
“If you believe I care who your bed, or couch partner is, you are sadly mistaken.” Oswald put the drink down. “You could be sharing body warmth with the Killer Croc for all I care.” He looked down at the papers on his desk. “As I am sure even you can see I am a very busy man, Edward. Please see yourself out, I’m sure you remember the way.” He waved Edward away.

  
As far as Oswald knew, Croc is one of the few rogues Edward had never shown any sexual interest in. Croc and himself of course. The vain rogue had no interest in freaks like them. If Oswald said it did not hurt, he would be lying, even after all these years.

  
“No Crocs I’m afraid.” Edward laughed. “But about a dozen cats and two large dogs.”

  
Oswald nearly smiled. He would have to thank the girls well for looking out for this fool that he cared too much for.

  
“And one penguin.”

  
Oswald’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

  
For answer Edward opened the lid of the box and pulled out a small stuffed penguin with a top hat and purple bow tie and sat it on the desk facing Oswald.

  
“This was on my nightstand in the hospital when I woke.”

  
“It did not come from me. I assure you.” Oswald stared at the toy with something like fear. He wanted nothing more than to toss the thing into the fire behind him.

  
“I know. At first, when I saw your picture in the paper, I thought you must have left it.” Edward picked up the stuffed toy and looked at it. “But Pam told me they found it in my bedchamber. Harleen says it was on… my bed.”

  
It was the Sirens. It had to be. Only they knew of his feelings for Edward. A fine joke at his expense.

  
“The Sirens are playing a joke with you, Eddie.”

  
“I’m not too sure about that.” Edward cleared his throat and handed the box and the rest of its contents to him. “They also found this under the bed.”

  
Oswald took the box more than a little curious. Edward looked embarrassed and guilty. And he wondered what could be in the box. They had already seen the worst of each other. More than once.

  
Not that Edward would remember, he reminded himself.

  
The first thing Oswald saw was an old clipping from a newspaper, a photo of the two them when Edward was only his chief of staff and he was mayor. They had looked so happy. But he knew now that Edward’s smile was as fake as his name. And he had been a fool to fall for it.

  
There were other articles from throughout the years. All with one thing in common, they all featured himself. It was like looking at a scrapbook of his life. But instead of seeing himself growing older he was watching himself growing younger, and thinner, the deeper he dug in the box.

  
The last article was a missing persons notice dated before he had even met the man known as Ed Nygma. But it was not the last item in the box.

  
Oswald took out the Polaroid picture laying face down at the bottom of the box. He flipped the picture in his hand over. And dropped the box.

  
He held another picture of himself. Although this one had been taken by the man in front of him while Oswald slept in Edward’s own bed.

  
Oswald felt sick.

  
“What the hell is this supposed to be, Edward?”

  
“I was hoping you could tell me.” Edward gathered the dropped box. “When I first saw the contents I assumed we were lovers.”

  
Oswald laughed, he could not help it. “We are not nor have we ever been lovers.”

  
“I remember kissing you. We were in front of a fire. And you kissed me. Or maybe I kissed you. I can’t remember.”

  
Oswald had played that scene so many different ways in his mind that he could almost believe him.

  
Would it be so wrong to play along?

  
He had wanted Edward so badly back then that he would have done anything to keep him. And he still lost him. Bat help him. He still wanted him. But not like that.

  
“I think I would remember. After all I am not the one that has amnesia.”

  
“But we were at least friends. Once.”

  
“Why, because of a silly photo op?” Oswald held up the first newspaper clipping. “This was never real. You were my chief of staff. Only my chief of staff. Nothing more.”

  
The words cut Oswald. Edward had been his chief of staff and nothing more. He had been everything.

  
“What about this then?” Edward grabbed the Polaroid from Oswald’s hand. “This is clearly you only”-

  
“Thinner?”

  
“I was going to say younger.” Edward gripped the photo bending the aged paper. “I took this picture, didn’t I? Why would I have? Why would I have kept it all these years if I hated you?”

  
No. The photo proved nothing, Oswald told himself.

  
“Do you want to hear the truth, Edward Nashton? You followed me. You studied me. And when the opportunity was dropped at your feet, quite literally I might add, you held me hostage until I agreed to your terms to tutor you in murder. You played the innocent until I trusted you. And then you betrayed me. Left me for dead and robbed my corpse.” Oswald gasped for breath.

  
“And this?” He grabbed the photo from Edward. “You took my picture while I was drugged and unconscious and healing from a gunshot wound.” He threw the picture into the fire behind him. “This only proves you were planning to betray me even from the beginning. Should I have one of my people search your hideout for more pictures?” He blinked away angry tears. “Do you have more compromising pictures hidden in the back of your closet?”

  
“You are wrong.”

  
“Take your box and leave Mr. Nashton before I have you thrown out.”

  
“Selina says you hate me. Harleen says I hate you. Pamela says we hate each other. I came here today for the truth.” Edward took his box. “I believe I have my answer.”

  
Edward moved towards the door.

  
“Edward, I do not know what your game is this time. But if you enter the Lounge without invitation again you will not be leaving alive.” Oswald paused. “Do we have an understanding?”

  
Edward turned around and smiled. “I believe we do.” He opened the door. “Oh, and Mr. Cobblepot, there is another box of photos. But I thought it would not be proper to bring those to a respectable place of business such as this.”

  
Oswald felt a chill.

  
He remembered the young Ed Nygma had taken photos of their first victim, and every one after. The Riddler had always been a trophy collector. Oswald had assumed they had been destroyed, or lost, long ago. No doubt he possessed enough evidence to completely destroy him, though it would also destroy Edward.

  
It was a small comfort.

  
“What do you want, Edward?”

  
“An invitation to the Lounge. Tomorrow night at eight. A seat at the king’s table. Your best bottle of wine. And the Penguin’s company.”

  
It was a bad idea. “One condition. You will bring those other pictures to me.”

  
“I will bring one.” Edward smiled. “One for each invitation to the Lounge.”

  
He should give the signal to kill this man once and for all. He should send his people to Edward’s hideout and burn it down. He should do anything but agree.

  
“Deal.”

  
“It’s a date then. I will see you tomorrow.”

  
“It is not a date. It is just a business dinner.”

  
“I do not like onions. I ask that you do not eat any onions during our… dinner. I do not want your breath to taste of onions.”

  
“If you think for one second that I will kiss you for exchange of a photograph”-

  
“Oh, I don’t know, that might be worth two pictures.” Edward winked. “Good night, Oswald.”  
Edward shut the door behind him.

  
Oswald sank into his throne chair and put his head in his hands.

  
What had he done? He had agreed to a dinner date with Edward. It promised to be a disaster.

  
So why was he smiling?

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay. I know. This was meant to be just a one shot. And I can’t promise to continue. But I want to know how the date goes too. So maybe.
> 
> A few thoughts. 
> 
> Nothing happens between them until Edward starts to get his memory back. But with each date Edward starts to remember more and more.
> 
> And no. Edward does not any X rated photos of Oswald! 
> 
> Remember what I said at the beginning, Oswald is an unreliable narrator. Did Edward play him from the start? Maybe. Maybe not. Is Edward the “slut” Oswald thinks he is? Probably. But not with Selina or Pamela! In Gotham verse it’s just too weird.
> 
> The Sirens. I love the headcanon of Edward being an unofficial 4th Siren. I kinda want to write a fic of the Sirens playing matchmaker between Riddleman and the Penguin. Maybe helping Edward prepare for his “date”.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
